


Heat of the Moment

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [41]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU after S1 finale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale is a Good Alpha, First Time, M/M, with Stiles's help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I'm the alpha now. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Derek never wanted the alpha power. But now he could feel the alpha power thrumming through his veins, calling to him and the those it considered pack.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Have a sterek fic based off of a song by Asia. Posted nearly a year to the day after it was started!

_I'm the alpha now._

Derek never wanted the alpha power. Laura was the one trained for it from birth, and sure, Derek had attended a couple of lessons with his twin, but he'd never really paid very much attention. He would be Laura's second, and he'd been content with that.

But now he could feel the alpha power thrumming through his veins, calling to him and the two it considered pack-- Stiles and Scott. And really, what an ironic turn of events-- he was pretty sure they both hated him now. He couldn't even blame them, not when he hated himself, too. He'd been a dick the past few weeks, and--

The sound of an approaching car pulled Derek from his introspection, and he straightened, tense as he listened until he identified the approaching vehicle as that death trap Stiles drove. Then, he waited on the porch, arms crossed over his chest. "What do you want?" he demanded as soon as Stiles opened the door.

"To make daisy chains and braid your hair," Stiles snarked as he slammed the driver's door. "To talk, dumbass. Are you seriously living here?"

Derek frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Stiles gave him an incredulous look. "Uhh, because it's falling down?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Well, where else would you have me stay? Not many people in town trust me now. Thanks for that, by the way. Love being known as 'that guy who might have killed his sister.'"

Stiles winced. "I've already apologised for that," he said. "There's not a whole lot else I can do." His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. "Except put a roof over your head. You should come stay with me!"

Derek blinked. "Stay... with you. You do remember that Scott hates me, right? What're you planning on telling him?"

"That I couldn't have a serious conversation with you while you looked like a hobo," Stiles said flatly. "And we both accept that a conversation with you needs to happen at some point. Since Scott doesn't want to do it himself, he'll have to let me do it my way."

Derek huffed out a sigh. "I'm not going anywhere with you unless the sheriff says he knows that his son is inviting an ex-suspect to stay with them," he said flatly, ignoring the small twinge at the thought. Before... before, he wouldn't have hesitated to take Stiles up on his offer.

"My dad will be cool with it," Stiles promised. _Probably_. "He only arrested you because he didn't have much choice. Even you have to accept that all the evidence was pointing to you. But he let you go as soon as he could; I know there are no hard feelings on his part."

Derek shook his head. "I'm not going to stay with you until I know the sheriff is okay with it. So he can come invite me himself."

Stiles glared at him. "You're a pig-headed asshole, you know that?"

Derek shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't change anything, though."

Stiles huffed and wrenched the door of his Jeep open. "Don't think I won't be back," he threatened. "Jerk."

* * *

It took a surprisingly small amount of wheedling on Stiles' part to get the sheriff to agree to his request, and the next day the man himself pulled up in his cruiser outside the broken shell that had once been the Hale house. Derek was nowhere to be seen but Sheriff Stilinski was under no illusions that he wasn't home, so he got out of the car and crunched his way through the dead leaves that completely covered the front path and knocked on the door. He was kind of impressed that the thing didn't collapse beneath the assault. "I know you're in there, Hale," he called after a moment. "Open up!"

Derek skipped the stairs, landing with a _thump_ on the floor before opening the door. "Sheriff," he said. He tilted his head consideringly. "Stiles talked to you."

"He did," the sheriff confirmed. "Do you actually want to move in with us?"

Derek glanced around what remained of his house. "I'd have liked it if he asked that," he conceded after a moment, unable to shake the feeling he'd always had around the elder Stilinski, that the man could be trusted with anything. "But I don't... I wouldn't feel right just abandoning this place."

The sheriff's expression softened. "That's not what you would be doing," he said. "The property would still be yours, and you could do whatever you liked with it. But it might be a good idea to have a proper roof over your head while you make those decisions."

Derek worried his lower lip. "Okay," he said after a moment. "I-- If you're sure."

"Derek, you've always been welcome," the sheriff told him. "I've gotta get back to the station, so get your things together and Stiles will be over after school to give you a hand, okay?"

Derek nodded. "Okay."

The sheriff smiled. "Then I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

It was a bit depressing to realize how few possessions he had now, Derek mused as he looked at the two bags sitting at the bottom of the stairs. His life's belongings, all in one place. He'd not started packing until ten minutes after he knew the high school let out, exactly so he could avoid this realization. He just hoped Stiles wouldn't say anything.

Stiles burst into the house without asking this time, pointedly ignoring the sickening sense of deja vu, and gave Derek a big smile. "Hey," he said cheerfully. "Is this everything? 'Cause I figured I could take it in my car, rather than risk making a mess of yours."

Once again, Derek was startled by Stiles's manic energy-- even though he really shouldn't be. "Yeah, that's everything," he said. "Everything salvageable, at least."

Stiles knew he needed to be sensitive about this, but he also knew that Derek would notice if he tried too hard. "Cool," he said lightly, still smiling as he grabbed a bag. "I know my dad said you could take your time deciding what to do with this place, but a good clean should be near the top of your list. You coming?"

Derek looked over his shoulder one last time before nodding. "Yeah. After you."

* * *

They got home with just enough time for Stiles to make dinner before the sheriff came in from work. He showed Derek the guest bedroom first of course, and headed downstairs to start cooking with absolutely no expectations of seeing Derek again before the food was ready. He nearly jumped out of his skin, therefore, when Derek cleared his throat from the kitchen doorway, but quickly recovered and put him to work. 

Derek, it turned out, was quite a good cook; he chopped all of the veg Stiles gave him with practiced ease and even gave Stiles a few pointers on seasoning the woefully vegetarian lasagne. That was the only thing Derek was less than pleased about, and it was the only thing Stiles put his foot down on. His father's health came miles before Derek's fondness for red meat.

The sheriff looked exhausted when he finally got home, so Stiles wasted no time in putting a plate in front of him, and they sat down to eat. "Stiles, you've outdone yourself tonight," was the first thing the sheriff said, when he was halfway into his lasagne.

"Derek helped," Stiles said quickly. "He had some great ideas."

The sheriff gave Derek a tired smile. "I hope he gave you time to settle in, and didn't just shove you straight into the kitchen."

Derek shook his head. "I volunteered," he answered, suddenly remembering the last time the sheriff had said that to him-- the last time he'd spent the night here, back when he and Stiles were still friends.

"Well, thank you," the sheriff said, before cutting his gaze to Stiles. "I hope you took notes."

Stiles pretended to be affronted. "Why don't you get Derek to cook in the future, if you like his food better than mine?"

Derek laughed at that, startling himself. "No, you don't want me cooking anything by myself. I haven't gotten any better at unsupervised cooking."

The sheriff turned kind eyes on Derek. "Well, if you're going to be living with us you'll have to pick up some other chores."

"... I can unload a dishwasher and sort laundry?" Derek offered, a bit uncertain.

"Will you clean the bathroom if Stiles cleans the kitchen?" the sheriff asked.

Derek wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather deal with up close and personal kitchen smells than bathroom smells, thanks."

"If that's okay with Stiles."

Stiles finally found his tongue. "Dad!" he squeaked. "Derek's a guest!"

"No," the sheriff said, without looking away from Derek. "He isn't."

"No, I'm not," Derek agreed.

Stiles looked between the two of them, unsure what had just happened but mostly confident that it was a good thing. "Fine," he said. "You can take the kitchen, but you should be warned that I'm a messy cook."

Derek couldn't help but grin. "I saw that this evening."

"Derek's not here to clean up after you," the sheriff warned.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I know," he said. "I'll help."

The sheriff nodded. "Then you can work out the rest between yourselves."

"Thank you again, Sheriff," Derek said.

The sheriff smiled. "No need for that, son."

* * *

Derek insisted on cleaning up the kitchen a little that night-- at least the mess Stiles made while they were cooking dinner (Derek may not be a good cook, but he's at least a _neat_ one). He and the sheriff watched a few innings of a baseball game in a slightly-awkward silence until Derek announced that he was heading to bed. Stiles had disappeared upstairs shortly after dinner, and by the time Derek was tugging on his nightclothes (read: a baggy pair of sweatpants and a tank top), he could hear Stiles pacing outside. "Quit loitering," Derek called through the cracked door, just loud enough to be heard. "If you want to talk, just knock on the door."

Stiles winced, but did as he was bid and knocked on the door before opening it and popping his head into the room. "Hey," he said. "Just thought I'd see how you are."

Derek shrugged. "I don't really know. Haven't known since I killed Peter."

Stiles blinked, surprised by the sheer honesty of that statement. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked carefully. 

"No," Derek said bluntly.

Stiles tried his hardest not to flinch, but he was sure that something must have shown on his face. _Fine_. "Okay," he said lightly, as though Derek hadn't just spat his attempt at friendship and solidarity right back in his face. "Well, I'll leave you to get some sleep, then. Goodnight!" He didn't actually run away, but it was a near thing.

Derek blew out a breath, watching Stiles go. He hadn't meant to be so blunt, but... Well, what's done was done.

The next day was a little awkward, and eventually Derek got tired of it. He cornered the teenager in his room, barely bothering with pleasantries before demanding, "What was this conversation you mentioned?"

"Uh, what?" Stiles asked intelligently. Ever since he'd come back to town, whenever Derek entered his bedroom Stiles' brain kind of switched off.

"You mentioned a conversation we had to have," Derek said, hovering by the doorway so Stiles couldn't escape. "What was it?"

"Oh, right." Stiles looked around. "Do you want to come in? You're making me nervous."

Derek lifts an eyebrow. " _I_ am making you nervous?"

Stiles huffs. "If you've got something to say, say it."

"I don't; I thought you did?"

Stiles clenched his teeth. "We need to know what you being the alpha means."

Derek sighed. "I'm not sure; for now, it means I get used to the alpha power, and when I'm sure I can control it, then most likely I'll start looking into expanding the pack."

"The pack that automatically includes Scott?" Stiles asked. 

"In a way, yes," Derek answered. "I took the power from the alpha that bit him-- he will _always_ be connected to that power and whoever holds it. But he's not fully pack unless he chooses to be."

Stiles nodded. "I'm not sure he wants to do that," he confessed. 

"I don't blame him." Derek blew out a breath. "I haven't given him any real reason to trust me as his alpha. I'm hoping that will change, because him being an omega won't do anyone any favors. But at the same time, this pack needs to stabilize. Which means at least three more wolves beside myself."

"Don't look at me," Stiles said quickly.

Derek snorted. "I didn't say anything about biting you," he pointed out.

"Right. Of course not." Stiles sighed. "So who are you going to bite?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't know. Right now I'm more concerned with getting through my first full moon as an alpha; I don't want to just go around and bite random people."

"Is that a risk?" Stiles asked. "How do we deal with that?"

"I know of an abandoned train station; I want you to trap me in a mountain ash circle-- just for the night. That way we can see what that 'worst case' is. I don't think it'll be bad, but if I'm surrounded by mountain ash, then I won't be able to accidentally attack someone."

Stiles sucked his teeth. "Okay."

Derek nodded. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else?" Stiles asked.

"Yes. I'm going to need an emissary; Deaton was bonded to my mother. I don't know if that bond can be transferred."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Wait, what's an emissary?"

Derek worried his lower lip, trying to sort out his words. "It's... kind of like an advisor? They try to help their pack; some are more hands-on than others."

"And Scott's boss did that for your mom?" Stiles had known Deaton was _something_ , but this was the last thing he'd expected.

Derek nodded. "But like I said, each emissary is tied to an alpha. I don't know if Deaton can be mine."

"Well, have you asked?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Haven't exactly had time."

Stiles sighed. "Okay. So what if the answer's no? Is an emissary something you _need_?"

"Not right away, but eventually, yeah. Without an emissary to help balance the alpha, the entire pack could become unstable."

"Of course." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Well the first thing we need to do is find out if Deaton can resume his old position. If not, then we need to go about finding a new emissary." He hesitated. "I mean, you. You need to do that." 

Derek didn't answer for a moment. "I'd appreciate your help," he admitted quietly.

Stiles' eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Yeah," he said. "Of course, man."

The side of Derek's mouth tilted up. "Thanks."

* * *

They went to see Deaton after school the next day, when Stiles knew that Scott wasn't working. It wasn't that he was hiding it from Scott, exactly - just that he didn't want to involve him until it became necessary. Scott wasn't Derek's biggest fan, after all, and he hadn't been particularly happy to learn that Derek was staying with Stiles now.

Deaton was behind the desk when they walked in, and looked for all the world like he'd been expecting them. "Hey, Doc," Stiles said amiably. "You got a minute?"

"For you two?" Deaton smiled. "Of course. I've just made some tea, if you're interested."

Stiles exchanged a look with Derek. "Uh, that sounds great. Thanks."

Derek nodded, following Deaton and Stiles into the back. "I assume you heard about what happened?"

"Scott told me, yes," Deaton answered as he poured the tea. "How does it feel, being the alpha?"

"Lonely," Derek admitted. "I've got two half-pack members, but that's not enough to feel stable. Plus no emissary."

Deaton's gaze flickered to Stiles and away again. "Problems that you should rectify as soon as possible," he said mildly.

"We were hoping you could help with at least one," Derek said. "I know that sometimes an alpha-emissary bond has been transferred down bloodlines; could you be my emissary?"

Deaton sighed. "I could be," he said, "but I haven't been an emissary for some years, and any bond you and I might have developed in your youth has since fallen apart over time and distance. It would be difficult for us to cultivate a relationship like the one your mother and I shared; the one that should exist between an alpha and their emissary. It may be the case that someone else would be more suitable."

Derek was only a little disappointed to learn that that was the case; he'd been expecting it, after all. "Do I need an emissary right away, or is that something that can wait?"

"It can wait," Deaton answered. "Likely the more suitable candidate, whenever they make themselves known, will need to be trained and helped to develop the necessary skills before they can take on the role proper. And I'll be happy to advise you as and when the need arises in the meantime."

Derek nodded. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Deaton smiled serenely. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Do you have any idea what i can expect this full moon?"

"Sadly, no," Deaton said. "Alphas who are also omegas can prove incredibly dangerous, and can't hope to hold onto their sanity for more than two turns of the moon - but you are not an omega." Again, he glanced at Stiles. "Not yet. As I understand it from Scott you boasted a great deal of control before your transition from beta to alpha, but you would certainly do better to stay as close to what little pack you have now as possible. Provided that you are properly restrained, you shouldn't need to worry about hurting anyone."

Derek blew out a breath. "Well, thanks for confirming that. Which reminds me: we'll need mountain ash; I was going to have Stiles surround me with it in that abandoned train depot."

Deaton nodded. "A wise choice." He turned to retrieve a baggy of mountain ash from the filing cabinet behind him, but hesitated once it was in his hand. "Will Stiles be staying in the depot with you?"

Derek glanced at the teenager in question. "I... hadn't thought to ask. It's up to him."

"Stiles?" Deaton asked. 

Stiles swallowed. "I don't really see how it would help," he said slowly, "but yeah, I'll stay with him."

Deaton smiled. "Then that's settled."

Derek shot Stiles a grateful half-smile before turning back to Deaton. "Do you have any other advice? I don't want to just go around biting random people."

Deaton shrugged. "I can't point you in any one direction over another," he said. "As the alpha, it's up to you to choose the criteria the members of your pack will have to meet." He paused, and then added, "Your mother, though. She always gave people a choice."

Derek nodded, remembering the few members Talia Hale had offered the bite to. "I think I'd like to offer it to people it could help," he decided.

Deaton smiled. "A notion that Talia would be proud of, I have no doubt."

Derek returned the smile. "Thank you for the advice, Deaton."

Deaton excused himself for an appointment with a poodle after that, and Stiles and Derek lingered only long enough to finish their tea before taking their leave. They didn't speak until they were outside of the clinic, and then it was Stiles who broke the silence. "What do you think he meant, about a more suitable emissary putting in an appearance?"

"I don't know," Derek admitted, expression thoughtful. "Mom always said that she'd just known that Deaton was her emissary."

"Well, you seemed pretty set on having Deaton as yours," Stiles said. "Maybe he's wrong?"

Derek sighed. "I don't think so. I wanted him because I knew him, and he was my mother's emissary. But he doesn't feel... right."

Stiles hummed. "Well, hopefully someone who does will show up soon."

"Yeah, hopefully," Derek agreed.

* * *

By the time the morning of the full moon rolled around, they were as ready as they were ever going to get. The sheriff was working an early shift, so he'd been told that Stiles and Derek were going camping, and Deaton had helped them to secure the train depot against both Derek trying to get out and unwelcome company trying to get in. Stiles had prepared two circles of mountain ash, one around the perimeter of the building and a smaller one inside, which he only needed to close in order to activate. Derek had spent a lot of time meditating and working on his control, in the hopes of lessening the chances of completely snapping when the moon rose. 

The only person who hadn't been prepared in one way or another for the coming evening was someone Stiles had woefully forgotten about until his picture lit up Stiles' phone that morning. Bracing himself, Stiles accepted the call. "Hey, Scotty. What's up?"

"Haven't heard from you for a couple of weeks," Scott said, frowning slightly. "Where've you been?"

"Working," Stiles answered honestly. "Sorry man, things have been crazy here. Are you all set for tonight?"

"I think so. Was hoping you could come help me, though."

Stiles frowned. "I thought your control was really good now," he said. "What about Allison?"

"We're doing good, but you're my best friend," Scott answered.

Stiles winced. "Well, I've kind of made other arrangements tonight, Scott..."

"You're helping Derek." Scott finished Stiles's sentence in a flat voice. "Man, you can't trust him; he's just in this for his own power, how many times do I have to tell you this?"

"Whatever he's in this for doesn't matter," Stiles insisted. "He's _in this_ without a proper pack, which means he's in real danger of losing himself tonight."

"So?" Scott demanded. "I don't have a pack and I'm doing fine."

"You have a strong anchor," Stiles told him. "Someone who loves you. And you do have a pack, Scott. You have Derek."

Scott made a disgusted noise. "He's not my pack," he said stubbornly.

"Just because you've rejected him doesn't mean that he's rejected you." Stiles sighed. "Come with us tonight. You might find that it helps."

Scott frowned, thinking. "Fine," he said shortly.

Stiles blinked. "Seriously?"

"If it'll get you to see just how bad an idea it is for me to be in Derek's pack, then sure."

Stiles closed his eyes. "You used to love him as much as I did," he said, even though it was a lie. "Can't you give him a chance?"

Scott snorted. "No, I always got along better with Laura and Cora. But fine. I won't cause trouble tonight."

"Thank you," Stiles said, with feeling. "Come over about an hour before moonrise. We'll explain everything then."

The first thing he did when they hung up was go to find Derek. 

Derek heard Stiles's footsteps thundering down the stairs, and he glanced over the back of the couch. "What's wrong?"

"Scott just called," Stiles said. "He's coming tonight."

Derek blinked. "Scott? Scott who hates me?"

"The very same." Stiles sighed and flopped down onto the sofa beside Derek. "He promised he wouldn't cause any trouble, but that was after he said he was only coming to help me see the light."

"'See the light'?" Derek echoed. "About what?"

"About you."

" _What_ is his problem with me?" Derek demanded, exasperated.

Stiles bit his lip. "He thinks you're only in this for the power," he said. "That you took away his only chance to become human again because you wanted to be the alpha and use Scott for your own means, like Peter did."

"Ah. I got carried away when I killed Peter," Derek admitted. "He killed Laura, and... she was all I had left."

"I get that," Stiles reassured him. "Scott is just too close to the situation to see that." He hesitated. " _Would_ it have worked, Scott killing Peter?"

"I honestly don't know for sure," Derek answered. "There are legends, and legends have some basis in fact, but..."

"But while there was a chance it would have worked, there was also a chance that Scott would have become the alpha instead?" Stiles guessed.

"It was much much more likely he'd have gotten the alpha power," Derek confirmed. "Which would have been disastrous."

Stiles didn't even need to think about it. "You're right," he said. "You made the right call."

Derek smiled gratefully. "Thanks. Good to know someone thinks I made the right decision."

Stiles nodded. "I'm not going to be dragged into the middle of this thing between you and Scott," he said. "I'm on both of your sides. But for what it's worth, I think he's being an asshole."

Derek chuckled. "I haven't exactly been a saint," he reminded Stiles.

"Oh, I think you're an asshole, too," Stiles said cheerfully. "But that's nothing new."

Derek outright laughed at that. "No, it wouldn't be."

* * *

That night finds Derek pacing inside of the circle Stiles locked him in, the pull of the full moon familiar yet foreign with the alpha power coursing through him. He knows when Scott arrives even before he hears the other wolf, the alpha power recognizing its progeny.

Scott pauses when he sees Derek; the older wolf looks more on edge than Scott's ever seem him. "Why is he inside the mountain ash?"

"Because, like I said, he's in danger of losing control," Stiles explained slowly. "Deaton said it would be better if he was around pack, so you being here should help. If you behave."

Scott huffed. "I said I wouldn't cause trouble."

"Actions speak louder than words," Stiles said, eyeing Scott. "How are you feeling? I've got some spare mountain ash if you think you'll need it."

Scott shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

Stiles nodded, and looked at Derek. "How are you holding up, big guy?"

Derek rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Decent," he decided. "It's more than I'm used to, but not so much I can't handle it."

Stiles offered him a smile. "You're doing good," he said.

Derek smiled back. "Thanks."

Things were looking pretty good, and Stiles even dared to hope that Scott's presence tonight would prove beneficial to all of them - but, of course, things had to go pearshaped. With the full moon high in the sky and both werewolves feeling its pull, neither Scott nor Derek were their usual selves, but Stiles was quick to notice that one of them was far more agitated than the other.

"Uhh, Scott?" he said weakly. "You don't look so hot, buddy. You okay?"

Scott's only response was a growl, and Derek hovered anxiously, pressing as close as he could against the mountain ash barrier. "Stiles... You still have that mountain ash on you?"

"Uhh..." Stiles glanced nervously to the train behind Scott, where he'd stashed the spare ash. "Sort of?"

" _Stiles,_ " Derek said warningly; he could see scott's control slipping. "Break the circle, now."

Stiles didn't hesitate to comply; he jumped to the side and kicked through the closest part of the circle, breaking its hold on Derek instantly.

When Stiles had lunged to the side, Scott had jumped for him-- only to be bowled over by Derek leaping over the now-useless mountain ash, half-shifted. The new alpha positioned himself between Stiles and the feral beta, growling low in the back of his throat. When Scott made to lunge again, Derek followed his instincts, roaring and pouring all the power he could into the roar. Scott shrunk back, not quite cowed but more wary.

They spent the night in that half-standoff, Derek staying firmly between Scott and Stiles, baring his teeth and growling, faking a lunge whenever Scott seemed like he was going to try to get to Stiles again. By the time the moon sank below the horizon, all three of them were exhausted. Feeling the power ebb, Derek let himself shift back to human, watching Scott warily as the younger wolf did the same.

Stiles waited another half a second before allowing his legs to give out and folding gracelessly to the floor. "Okay," he snapped. "What the _hell_ was that?"

Scott's expression was sheepish. "I don't know," he admitted. "My anchor--"

"Wasn't present, and you're an omega," Derek finished sharply. "Add that to the fact that you've only been a 'wolf for a few months, and you were bound to lose control."

"You seemed to do okay, though," Stiles said to Derek. "If him being here helped you, shouldn't it have worked the other way?"

Derek sighed. "I've been an omega for a couple of years now," he explained. "I had Laura, but two wolves isn't a pack. Plus I'm a born wolf; I've been dealing with full moons my entire life. Scott doesn't have that history of experience to draw from."

Stiles frowned. Deaton had said that Derek needed to have _pack_ around him, which implied that Deaton thought Derek wasn't an omega... but maybe he'd been wrong? Or maybe Derek was right, and just having Scott around wasn't enough. "So what do we do?"

"I need to expand the pack," Derek said simply.

"And how are you going to do that?" Scott asked suspiciously.

"By offering people the bite."

" _Offering_ ," Stiles emphasised. "Not forcing, like Peter did to you."

Scott still didn't look convinced. "So you're going to drag more people into this mess?"

"The only thing that's a 'mess' is the fact that there are two omegas running around," Derek tried to explain as patiently as he could. "Me, and you. If I offer a few people the bite and they accept, they'll become part of my pack, and none of us will be omegas, except for you. You can force the bite on someone-- like Peter did to you-- but you can't force a pack tie. They have to _want_ it."

"Which could be something really useful for both of you," Stiles put in. "If you were to _want_ to be in Derek's pack."

Scott snorted. "How do I know the power won't go to his head like it did Peter?" he demanded.

"Are you seriously going to compare him to Peter?" Stiles shot back. "He may be a jerk and a control freak, but all you have to do is look at him to know that he's not _insane_."

Scott wanted to argue with that, but... He really couldn't. "Fine. But I'm still not joining his pack."

Derek held up a hand, silencing Stiles before he could snap back. "That's fine; but the offer stands. It may end up being better to be in a pack with someone you're not too fond of than to be an omega, especially with how young you are."

Stiles could tell that they weren't going to get any sense out of Scott that night - and when it hit him that it was actually morning now, he started to realise why he felt like shit. "Can we save this argument for another day and go home?" he asked. "We all need to get some sleep."

Derek nodded. "You're right," he said, stepping beside Stiles and offering him a hand.

Stiles took the hand gratefully and allowed Derek to pull him to his feet. Once he was sure he would stay there, he turned to Scott. "Maybe you should go see Allison once you've gotten some rest," he said gently.

Scott tore his gaze from Derek and Stiles's still-joined hands to nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that."

* * *

That night finds Stiles and Derek hanging out in the living room while the sheriff catches up on his sleep. "I've been thinking-- you know everyone better than I do," Derek started. "So I'd like you to help me figure out who to offer the bite to."

Stiles looked at Derek, surprised. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I only really know people at school, though, so... does that mean you want people my age?"

Derek thought it over for a moment. "I think so, yeah," he said after a moment.

"Since it worked out so well with Scott," Stiles said dryly.

"Hey, you don't get to blame that on me; Peter was psychotic and didn't train Scott or explain what was going on. This will be different."

"I know, I know," Stiles said hastily. "I'm just saying that people like Scott might not be the best candidates. I'm not sure that Scott would have said yes even if Peter had given him a choice."

"That's why I'm asking your advice," Derek replied. "What would you Have said, if he offered the bite to you? Just wondering."

Stiles tried his hardest not to react, but there was no way his heartbeat didn't give him away; he decided it would be best to just be honest. "He did offer it to me," he said lightly. "I turned him down."

"He offered you the bite?"

"After Lydia was attacked," Stiles supplied. "At the dance?"

"And you turned him down?"

Stiles nodded. "Told him I didn't want it."

"Why not?" Derek asked, genuinely curious.

"Because I've seen what it did to Scott," Stiles answered honestly. "I appreciate that it could really benefit some people, but... I don't think I could handle it."

Derek tilted his head slightly. "Why not? For the record, I think you'd make a great wolf."

Stiles smiled. "I don't," he said. "I'm meant for the simpler things in life."

Derek couldn't help but laugh at that. "The simpler things, huh?"

"Yeah," Stiles said cheerfully. "Like offering great advice and constructive criticism from the sidelines. What is it you'd look for in someone you wanted to turn?"

Derek considered the question carefully. "I want to offer it to people that it'd help," he said finally.

Stiles nodded. "Makes sense," he said. "Sick people, that kind of thing?"

"Yeah; like uncurable, debilitating, that sort of thing. And maybe if the bite is their only way out of a bad situation?"

"I might know someone," Stiles said. "I'll poke around at school, see if I can come up with anyone else. How many people do you need, ideally?"

"At least three," Derek answered. "I'd hesitate to take anymore than that for right now."

"I'll do my best," Stiles promised.

* * *

Used to eating alone, Erica is surprised when she hears a tray being set on the table across from her. "Can I help you?" she asked cautiously, looking up to see Stiles Stilinski sitting across from her. Her surprise grows, but her suspicion levels lowered at the same time-- Stiles was a troublemaker, but he only made trouble for those who deserved it, like Jackson and Harris.

Stiles smiled. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I just saw that no one was sitting here and thought you might like some company."

Erica tilted her head. "You've never talked to me much before," she pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I can't start now," Stiles countered. "I can go if you want me to, though."

"I'm just concerned about ulterior motives," Erica confessed. "Can't blame me."

"No," Stiles said gently. "I guess not. But if I have a motive, it's not a bad one, I swear."

Erica studied the other teenager for a moment before nodding. "You can stay," she decided.

Stiles smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

And for the next week, it seems like there really is no ulterior motive. Stiles hangs out with her during lunch-- sometimes with Scott in tow-- and they chat. They also start talking during gym, and they nod and wave at each other as they pass in the halls. This all does nothing for the crush Erica has been harboring on the hyperactive teen since seventh grade, but she finds she actually genuinely likes Stiles and not just the idea of him.

Of course, just when she starts to think that maybe she can at least have a friendship with him, she has an episode.

They're in the gym, and Coach Finstock has managed to coax her into giving the rock wall a try. She takes it slow, and for once she thinks that maybe she'll be able to do it, to make it to the top of the wall, she feels like a wave just passed over her-- a simple focus seizure, and for her, the first sign of an impending generalised seizure. She knows she shouldn't panic, but she's at least ten feet off the ground, and if she has a seizure here--

That's the last thought she has before everything goes blank.

* * *

Stiles wasn't there when she woke up, but he wasn't far. He hung back while first her doctors and then her parents saw to her, and as soon as Melissa gave him the okay he was slipping into Erica's room with a soft smile and a pink helium balloon, upon which was unfortunately written the word ' _CONGRATULATIONS!_. "Hey," he said quietly. "Up for some company?"

Erica eyed the balloon. "Depends; you here to make fun of me?" she asked, gesturing to the balloon in his hand.

Stiles followed her gaze and flushed guiltily. "It was all they had left," he explained. "I'm not here to make fun of you, I'm just here to talk."

Erica sighed. "What's there to talk about?" she asked bitterly. "I had a seizure and fell from the wall."

"The fact that it keeps happening," Stiles said. "The fact that it's not getting any better." He took a deep breath. "I know a way to make it stop."

Erica felt her whole body go still. "How?" she demanded sharply.

"It's hard to explain," Stiles said carefully. "I have a friend, and he's probably the best person to try. But I'm not talking about a blanket cure. The-- Your epilepsy would go away, but you would change in other ways."

Erica swallowed. "How big of a change are we talking?" she asked carefully. "I want it gone, but I don't want to lose myself."

"That is a risk," Stiles conceded after a moment, "but if you stick with my friend and let him help you, he won't let that happen."

Erica worried her lower lip. "Who's your friend?"

"Derek Hale."

Erica felt her eyes widened. "That guy whose family died? And you accused of killing his sister? How can _he_ help me?"

Stiles sighed. "Like I said, it's best that he tell you that."

Erica glanced to the aide, frowning as she thought. "Okay," she said, deciding she didn't have anything to lose. "I'll talk with him, at least."

Stiles nodded. "I'll talk to him tonight, and if he agrees I'll bring him in to see you tomorrow," he said.

* * *

"She's got epilepsy, you said?" Derek asked, frowning slightly.

"Yeah," Stiles said, "and it's bad. I can't say that I know how often the episodes happen, but the one I saw today was... awful. And it affects her social life, as well."

Derek nodded. "All right. I'll talk to her, explain everything I can."

Stiles smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

The next day, as promised, Stiles delivered Derek Hale to Erica's door. She was waiting for them and even though she wasn't feeling up to much and was confined to bed, she'd made an attempt to do something nice with her hair. That was more for Stiles' benefit than Derek's, but only Erica needed to know that. She graced them with a smile when they came in and invited them to sit down, but to her disappointment Stiles declined, saying he would leave her and Derek alone to talk.

"So," Erica began when Stiles was gone and Derek had yet to say a word. "Stiles said you could help me?"

"You're going to think I'm insane, but I have proof," is the first thing Derek said-- which probably wasn't comforting. "But what I can offer you will come with a lot of changes and will be a lot to get used to-- but no more seizures."

Erica frowned. "What is it that you're offering, exactly?"

Derek takes a deep breath. "I'm offering you the bite-- to turn you into a werewolf."

Erica's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "You said you had proof," she said after a long moment, sounding more than a little doubtful. 

Derek blew out a breath. "I'm going to shift," he warned her. "Just the face." With that, he closes his eyes and reaches for the power simmering just under his skin.

Erica couldn't help the scream, but she managed to clap a hand over her mouth before it escaped her entirely. "Oh my god," she gasped. "Oh my god, your _face_! You're really a-- a--"

Derek shifted back, nodding. "Yes. And I can make you one, too-- it'll cure the epilepsy, but you'll need to learn to control the shift, and especially on the full moon."

"My family," Erica said abruptly, thinking of Derek's own. "Will they be safe? Will I hurt them?"

”I can't guarantee anything," Derek said honestly. "But I can tell you that both Stiles and I will do everything to make sure anyone involved with this is safe-- if they know it or not."

"Well that doesn't sound creepy," Erica said dryly.

Derek sighed, settling more firmly into his chair. "Look, I'm not going to pretend it's not complicated-- for one thing, there are people out there who would kill me on sight just for being a werewolf. Kate Argent was one of them, and she was the one who caused the deaths of my entire pack. Right now, it's just me and Stiles-- and that isn't a stable pack. I need three other 'wolves, and I want to offer the bite to people it can help; like you.

"It's not going to be easy. I'll tell you that right now. There are hunters to deal with, and with the new instincts, you'll feel like you're fighting a whole other person for control of your body for a while, until you find what we call an anchor, something to help keep you human. I dint expect-- or even _want_ an answer right now. I'm just letting you know that this is an option-- a risky one, but one that could potentially give you a better life. In the end, it's completely up to you, and neither Stiles nor I will pressure you."

Erica took a while to let all of that sink in, and then she nodded. "I understand," she said. "I'll think about everything carefully, and let you know when I've made my decision."

Her parents made her stay home from school for the rest of the week, but the first thing she did on Monday morning was seek Stiles out and drag him to a more secluded area.

"Tell Derek I've made my decision. Tell him the answer is yes."

* * *

When Derek got Stiles's text, he couldn't help the relief that flooded him. **Ask her if Friday night works for her; we should do it at my old place.**

**Ugh, do we have to? It's so unsanitary there, and maybe you can't contract weird diseases but I can**

**Would you rather do it at your house? Being bitten and turned isn't very pretty. Scott got lucky and most of his turning was in his sleep. Erica might not be.**

**Fine. I hate you.**

Derek couldn't help but smile. **No you don't.**

* * *

Derek was the first one at the old Hale house that Friday; he arrived around noon and spent the afternoon making sure that the basement was secure against a changing wolf; namely, this meant double-checking and reinforcing the door, just in case. He was planning on having Stiles stay upstairs, just to be on the safe side, but knowing how stubborn the human could be, he'd probably insist on staying in the basement.

By the time he heard Stiles's Jeep pulling up, he had the basement fixed to his satisfaction. He met the two teenagers in the front yard, offering erica a reassuring smile. "You ready?"

Erica tried to smile back. "As I'll ever be," she said.

"When I give you the bite, it can go anywhere; usually it goes over the ribs, but that's just tradition. It won't leave a scar, so if you'd rather, I could bite you on the upper arm. Turning isn't a very pleasant experience, so we'll be in the basement," Derek explained. "It's soundproofed, and reinforced." He turned to Stiles then. "I'd rather you stay upstairs, but if you want to, you can stay with us."

Stiles grinned. "Like that's even a choice."

They were down in the basement before Erica spoke again. "I think I'd rather take the bite on my arm," she said with a nervous glance at Stiles. "If that's okay."

Derek smiled gently. "That's perfectly fine," he reassured her. "It's just tradition to have it over the ribs, but it'll work just as well over the arm."

Erica gave him a grateful smile. "I just, I don't want to take my shirt off," she explained.

"Hey, no big," Stiles said. "I wouldn't be taking too many layers off in here anyway."

Derek rolled his eyes. "This is going to hurt," he warned Erica. "Last chance to back out."

Erica hardened her expression, and shook her head. "No backing out," she said. "Do it."

* * *

The process of turning into a werewolf was, in a word, _awful_. Erica had been standing when Derek bit her, and for a little while she was fine. Stiles supposed that that made sense; Scott had managed to get home and into bed without noticing any desperate differences. It had all been over by the time he woke up, too, which was why Stiles hadn't expected very much of interest to happen. By the time it was over, though, Stiles had decided that either it was different for every werewolf, Scott had a much lower pain threshold than Erica, or Mrs McCall was deaf.

Half an hour after Derek administered the bite, Erica keeled over, and it was all Derek and Stiles could do to catch her before she hit the floor. And that wasn't even the worst part. Stiles didn't know when Erica had lost consciousness, but both before and after, she _screamed_. Over and over again, with varying pitches but only one degree of agony - the worst. "Is it always like this?" Stiles had asked, but Derek either hadn't heard him or just chose not to answer. When at last the screaming stopped and Erica was left to sleep it off in Derek's arms, Stiles' nerves were shot and he was starting to wish that he'd taken Derek's advice and stayed upstairs.

It was another thirty five minutes before Erica opened her eyes again. "Did it work?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"It did," Derek confirmed, relief coloring his voice. "Welcome to the life of a werewolf."

Erica got to her feet, and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh," she said, looking at Stiles. "I can hear your heartbeat. Cool."

Derek grinned. "All of your senses are enhanced; you'll also find that you're stronger and faster than before."

Erica grinned back. "And no more epilepsy?" she asked.

Stiles laughed. "Seems like a reasonable price to pay, doesn't it?"

"No more epilepsy," Derek agreed. "It's gonna take a bit of getting used to, but Stiles and I will help you as much as we can."

Erica looked between the two of them, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears. "Thank you," she said. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Derek stepped forward, laying a hand on Erica's shoulder. "You're welcome," he said, smiling.

* * *

Erica took to being a werewolf with speed he'd never expected. She didn't have a steady anchor just yet, but with Stiles's help she'd already started getting a handle on her new powers.

Almost a week after Erica's turning, Derek was at the cemetery visiting his family's graves when he overheard Mr. Lahey yelling at his son. When Derek got closer, he was just in time to see the older man backhand the younger, knocking Isaac into the backhoe. Derek growled under his breath, but didn't say anything. He knew what Mr. Lahey was like, and if Derek did anything right now, it'd only escalate.

So he waited. And when he had the chance, he took it 

Stiles was hanging with Scott when the text came through from Derek, demanding that he get home. He and Scott were definitely way overdue some quality bro time, but Derek didn't text unless it was important, so he made some lame excuse about needing to make dinner that Scott absolutely did not buy and got the hell out of there. "This had better be life-or-death," Stiles called as he slammed the front door behind him. "Scott looked like he wanted to eat m--" He stopped abruptly in the living room doorway. That was definitely not Derek sitting on the sofa. "Isaac? What are you doing here?"

Isaac lifted one hand in a wave as Derek emerged from the kitchen with drinks, handing one off to Isaac before offering the other to Stiles. "I invited him here. I want to offer him the bite, but since you and Erica are pack too, I wanted you both here before it's official."

Stiles tried not to show how much that surprised him, and took a sip. "Have you already explained everything?"

"Just the basics; enough so he knew I wasn't lying," Derek answered.

"It's pretty freaky, but if it means I won't be helpless..." Isaac's voice trailed off.

Stiles frowned. He was about to ask what that meant, but a knock on the door meant that Erica had arrived.

In the time since she'd taken the bite, Erica had _transformed_. She was so much more confident than she'd ever been, and she looked the part, too. Today she was wearing tight jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a low-cut top beneath a cropped leather jacket, and even Stiles had to admit that she looked gorgeous. She was all smiles as Stiles stood back to let her in, and she greeted Isaac warmly when she saw him. "This the new recruit?" she asked Derek.

"Isaac Lahey," Derek said.

"I've seen you around," Erica told Isaac. "So, are you interested?"

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, I am. I... I don't want to feel helpless."

"I understand that," Erica said pleasantly, moving to sit beside Isaac. "It's like nothing else in the world, being a 'wolf. But it's not easy."

"Derek mentioned that."

The alpha in question nodded. "I turned Erica a little over a week ago," he said. "She can tell you what it's like, being turned and a new 'wolf."

Erica grinned and patted Isaac's leg. "If all Derek's done so far is show you his game face and tell you about the deadly dangerous danger you'd be placing yourself in if you said yes, you must be bursting with questions," she said. "So shoot!"

Stiles met Derek's gaze while Isaac and Erica began to chatter, and wandered into the kitchen.

Derek followed him, getting himself a glass of apple juice. "What's up?"

Stiles drained his own glass and handed it to Derek for a refill while he shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "I just... why Isaac? How did you even meet him?"

"I was at the cemetery," Derek explained, and then lowered his voice. "I caught his dad hitting him."

" _What_!" Stiles shrieked, and then winced. "We need to tell my dad," he continued, his voice lower this time.

"He can't do anything if Isaac won't press charges," Derek pointed out. "If he does... Then maybe your dad or I could be appointed his legal guardian. But for now, this will help him not feel powerless or alone."

Stiles nodded. This, _this_ was why he didn't share Scott's doubts about Derek's capabilities as an alpha. "What if he just takes the power being a wolf gives him and uses it to kill his dad?" he asked. "It's what I'd do."

Derek grimaced. "The thought occurred to me," he conceded. "But I'm hoping that maybe... Well, maybe I can convince him to press charges. I witnessed one attack, and if he allows me, I'd like to bring the case officially to the sheriff."

Again, Stiles nodded. "Hopefully it'd be more satisfying for Isaac to see him in jail than to see him dead."

"Hopefully," Derek agreed. "I'll talk to him, see if I can convince."

Stiles smiled. "I believe in you."

* * *

Stiles and Derek drifted back into the living room eventually, and Isaac seemed pretty sold on the idea of becoming a werewolf. Erica left soon after, saying that she had to get home for dinner with her parents, and Stiles slunk off upstairs after Derek shot him a meaningful look. The sheriff wouldn't be home until late tonight, so he could afford to push back his and Derek's dinner until after Derek had spoken to Isaac.

Isaac, who wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd suddenly found himself alone with alpha werewolf Derek Hale by chance. "What is it?" he asked nervously, peering up at Derek.

"I just want to talk to you about your options," Derek said with a gentle smile. "You know I saw what happened today in the cemetery, and if that happens after you're turned... Well, I just want to talk things over with you."

"I won't hurt him, if that's what you mean," Isaac said quietly. "Erica told me about the strength and the speed, but honestly I'm not interested in using that against him. I just don't want him to be able to hurt me anymore."

"He could still do that," Derek said. "Werewolves heal fast, but we can still be hurt in the first place." He took a deep breath. "If you don't want to press charges, you could go for emancipation."

Isaac looked up. "I could?"

Derek nodded. "If you did that, you could live with us, or maybe Erica," he explained. "You'd also be able to get a restraining order, I think."

"But I--" Isaac broke off, thinking. "My dad wouldn't like that," he said finally. 

"This is about what you want," Derek reminded him. "You'll have my support, and the sheriff's if you want it."

Isaac blinked, and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I-- That sounds good. Thank you."

* * *

And, just like that, there were two betas in Derek's pack. Stiles could tell that he felt better the instant it became apparent that Isaac's body had accepted the bite, and he was happy for him. He still hadn't talked to Derek about what he'd meant, saying that Stiles was pack too, but it didn't matter, really. All they needed was one more beta and Derek would have the makings of a good, stable pack. It helped that Isaac and Erica had thus far taken to being werewolves like ducks to water, Isaac especially, which was good because they were having some difficulty coming up with a third candidate. It wasn't for lack of trying, per se, it was just that they'd all been... a little distracted.

For one, there was Isaac's legal emancipation from his father to deal with. After he'd taken the bite Derek had convinced Isaac to come clean to Erica and Stiles and even the sheriff about some of what had been happening to him at home, and they'd all immediately agreed to help in whatever way they could. Stiles had Googled until his eyes were square and the sheriff had offered the services of a good lawyer who owed him a favour, but that wasn't where he'd proven the most useful. When Isaac and his lawyer started proceedings, Mr Lahey had predictably kicked up a fuss, and that was where Derek and Sheriff Stilinski had come in. Stiles couldn't get the full details out of either of them and Isaac swore blind he hadn't been there to see it, but Mr Lahey had come away from the encounter with a busted lip and a restraining order filed against him, and Isaac had moved into the Stilinski household that very night. Derek had already taken up residence in their only guest room, and it wasn't big enough for two people by any means, but they had a sofa in the dining room that had been piled high with junk for so long that Stiles had honestly forgotten it was there, and it turned out that it pulled out into a reasonably comfortable bed. They'd brought a dresser downstairs for Isaac's clothes and he'd been granted sole use of the downstairs bathroom so that he had somewhere private to stash the rest of his stuff, and honestly, things with an additional houseguest were going much better than expected.

Their second reason for distraction was Scott. Thanks to Isaac's place on the lacrosse team, he'd recently found out that Derek had started to bite people - and to say that he was pissed would be putting it lightly. Stiles had already received a whole bunch of angry texts and voicemails and Scott had tried to pick a fight with Derek _and_ cornered Erica and Isaac at school to lecture them about Derek's loose morals or whatever, and to be frank about it, Stiles had had enough. He'd been seeing his friend less and less lately, mostly due to his attitude toward Derek and Stiles hated it, he loved Scott and he missed him and he wished that they could come to some sort of understanding about this, so he called a truce one afternoon after school and gave Scott a ride home so that they could talk somewhere that wasn't public or filled with super-hearing werewolves.

"Okay," Stiles sighed when they were safely ensconced in Scott's bedroom. Normally he would flop onto the bed and starfish after such a long and trying day, week even, but this time he took the desk chair instead. Neutral territory. "I know that you've been just dying to unload all of your angst and anger upon me, so just, lay it on me."

Scott was trying his hardest not to fume, but he was having a difficult time. "I just-- how could you choose _him?_ I know you were best friends with him until his girlfriend died or whatever, but this isn't the Derek from middle school, Stiles. He's changed, and you can't trust him! So why the _hell_ have you been helping him gain more power?"

Stiles gaped at him. "I'm not-- that's not what this is!" he cried. "Scott, please listen to yourself. I haven't _chosen_ him; this was never a competition! I'm just helping a friend."

"He hasn't been your friend for years!" Scott burst out. "And it sure as hell seems like you've chosen him-- you've been avoiding me, and you refuse to listen when I tell you he's dangerous!"

"Because you're _wrong_ ," Stiles snapped. "Scott, I don't even think he remembers knowing us before-- before Paige and the fire and everything else. I'm not doing this because of a friendship I _used_ to have with him. I'm doing this because of who he is now. He deserves my help _now_."

Scott huffed. "Why does he need _your_ help?" he demanded. "Why can't Deaton help him?"

"Because Deaton won't," Stiles said bluntly. "He'll give him crazy-ass cryptic advice when he's in desperate need, but other than that, Deaton is out."

Scott frowned. "Why not? He's supposed to be the expert."

Stiles sighed. "I don't know, man. Something about how the _right_ person will come along to step into the role he played for Derek's mom. I don't know; it didn't make sense to Derek and it doesn't make sense to me. Like I said, cryptic bullshit."

Scott's frown deepened. "Well, I still don't see why you're helping him so much," he muttered sullenly. "And why the hell is he biting people?"

"Because he needs to build a pack," Stiles said tiredly. "I told you that an alpha who is also an omega is dangerous, and the last thing Derek wants to do is hurt people. He's not like Peter."

Scott sighed. "How can you be so sure?"

"I just know," Stiles said. "If you would take the time to talk to him like a civilised person, you'd know, too."

Scott looked away, then swallowed. "I'll... try," he said finally. "If you really think he's good..."

Stiles gave Scott a pointed look. "Am I usually wrong?" he asked. "Trust me."

* * *

Boyd was quiet, not stupid. He knew something was going on; Erica Reyes had suddenly become extremely confident and outgoing, and Isaac Lahey was getting himself emancipated and was hanging out with Stiles Stilinski, of all people. Come to think of it, so was Erica. Boyd had seen the three of them huddled in the hall sometimes, Stiles talking to them in low voices and-- honest to God-- _petting them_ with their heads on his shoulders.

If Boyd didn't know any better, he'd think the three of them were in a relationship.

This odd behavior went on for about a week, then they started looking at _him._ Boyd had to admit, he was curious. He'd heard rumors that Derek Hale had moved in with the Stilinskis, and now Erica and Isaac were hanging out with Stiles? It all seemed a bit odd. So, when Erica and Isaac sat down at his lunch table the day after they, Stiles, and Scott McCall had all missed class, Boyd just looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Hi Boyd," Isaac said cheerfully.

Erica's smile was blinding. "How's it going?"

Boyd raised an eyebrow. "Oddly. Why are you here?"

"We thought we could have a chat," Erica said lightly.

"People don't usually just 'chat' with me," Boyd said pointedly.

"We've noticed," Isaac said, not unkindly. "We thought maybe we could change that."

"How?" Boyd asked suspiciously.

Erica laughed. "By being your friends, of course."

"And by introducing you to some of our other friends," Isaac added.

"Stilinski?" Boyd guessed.

"He's one of them," Isaac allowed. "Would you come talk to them?"

Boyd considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Not like I've got much to lose."

* * *

Stiles had told him who Erica and Isaac wanted to bring into the pack, and Derek hadn't been surprised when Stiles had hacked into police records to get Boyd's history. Which was also why he wasn't surprised when Boyd's first words to him were, "Your family's dead?"

"Yes," Derek said with a tilt of his head.

"So's mine," Boyd replied, offering Derek his hand. Derek took it, squeezing slightly.

"So, what've they told you?"

"You and Stiles can help me," Boyd answered. "I want to be part of something again-- I don't want to keep being alone."

Derek studied Boyd for a moment, then nodded. "You might want to sit down for the explanation."

"Just so you know, we're not asking you to join some kind of gang," Stiles said slowly. "But what we are offering will change your life forever."

"We're werewolves!" Isaac announced.

Boyd blinked. "Werewolves?"

Derek nodded. "Erica, show him?"

Erica's smile suddenly turned feral as her teeth lengthened and her eyes began to glow. Boyd sucked in a sharp breath, and Stiles wordlessly handed him a glass of water.

After Erica had shifted back and Boyd had downed half the glass, he looked to Derek for an explanation. "Erica and Isaac are beta 'wolves," he explained. "Stiles is a human-- he doesn't want the bite. I'm the alpha; I'm the only one who can turn a human into a 'wolf."

Boyd nodded slowly. "What about McCall?"

"Scott's not a part of this," Stiles said. "He's a werewolf, but he wasn't bitten by Derek and he doesn't want to be in Derek's pack."

"So what does that make him?"

"An omega," Derek answered. "That's what we call a 'wolf without a pack. But before you make a decision, you need to know the dangers. Namely, hunters and your own instincts."

"Werewolves are stronger and faster than humans, and their senses are heightened," Stiles explained. "They're also, basically, predators. It can be difficult to control your instincts at first, and you can be a danger to yourself and the people around you. Some humans have taken it upon themselves to hunt and kill werewolves because of that."

Boyd glanced at Derek. "Is that what happened to your family?"

Derek nodded. "The Argents are an old hunting family; they're supposed to have a code, like most hunters-- to only hunt those who hunt innocent people-- but few actually follow it."

"Allison and her father are included in that few, though," Stiles said quickly.

Boyd thought that over. "What about the instincts?"

"I'm a born wolf," Derek said. "So I don't know firsthand-- but Erica and Isaac could tell you."

Erica wasted no time in piping up. "The sounds and smells can be overwhelming," she said. "If you don't have a good enough anchor, you can lose control, especially if you feel angry or threatened. You can hurt people."

"It feels like there's an intruder in your head, with a whole different set of motivations from you," Isaac added. "Except for self-preservation and the desire to protect your pack."

Erica nodded. "The instincts surrounding pack are some of the strongest," she said. "It really helps, having that support network available."

"We don't want an answer now," Derek cut in. "I know it's a lot to take in. So take as long as you want to make your decision, talk with Erica, Isaac, and Stiles, get to know them and what being a member of the pack means."

Stiles smiled. "We'll answer any questions you have as best we can," he promised.

* * *

That night, after Boyd had gone home with the promise to think on all they'd said and Erica and Isaac were in the living room playing video games, Stiles caught Derek as he was passing through the kitchen. "Hey, can I talk to you?" He was elbow-deep in sudsy dishwater, and he indicated a towel with a jerk of his head. "You can dry?"

"Sure." Derek took the indicated towel, using it to dry the dish Stiles handed him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Can you have human members of a pack?" Stiles asked.

"Absolutely," Derek said, nodding. He hesitated, then added, "As a matter of fact, my family considered you, your dad, and Scott pack."

Stiles reeled. "Like, before the-- before you left?" he stammered. "You remember?"

Derek looked at Stiles curiously. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, confused.

Stiles flushed. "I-- You've been through a lot. Trauma, it does things to people. To their heads. And it wasn't like we were still friends when..." He trailed off. "You never said anything," he finished lamely.

Stiles flushed. "I-- You've been through a lot. Trauma, it does things to people. To their heads. And it wasn't like we were still friends when..." He trailed off. "You never said anything," he finished lamely.

Derek felt his ears heat, and he looked back to the dish he was still holding. "I didn't think you'd want me to bring it up," he muttered. "I know I was a dick to you those last few years."

Stiles huffed and dunked his hands back into the dishwater. "I told Scott that you're a different person now," he said after a moment. "I told him that I'm treating you the way I am because you've earned it now, not because we were friends before."

Derek was quiet for a moment. "We're all different now," he said finally.

Stiles nodded. "And it was mostly true, what I said. Except that..." He looked up, met Derek's gaze. "You were my best friend, man. Even before Scott was. That doesn't mean _nothing_."

Derek sighed. "No, it doesn't," he conceded. "But... After Paige... I didn't deal well-- at all. I left myself wide open to Kate. And you know where that led."

Stiles took a breath. "You were dating her, weren't you?" he asked.

Derek snorted. "That's a strong word for it," he said derisively.

Stiles pulled a face. "You know what I mean," he said. "You wouldn't tell me, but I knew you were hiding something. After what happened with Paige, I was worried about you, but you just kept pushing me away." He pulled a hand out of the water, watched the suds slide down his wrist so he didn't have to look at Derek's face. "Did you know she was an Argent? What that meant?"

"I didn't even care," Derek snorted. "I wanted something-- someone-- to take my mind off what happened."

 _Well, she certainly did that_. Stiles still didn't know what had actually happened with Paige, but he didn't think now was the time to ask. "I should have been there for you," he said instead. "I should have known that you needed someone."

"I deliberately pushed you away," Derek pointed out. "I pushed everyone away."

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't have let you," he said. But it was no use dwelling on _should haves_ and _shouldn't haves_ ; Derek's family was still dead. "She got what she deserved," he offered. "Kate. In the end."

"Yeah, she did; just wish my family could've seen it," Derek murmured.

"They did," Stiles said, quiet but confident. "They're still with you, Derek."

Derek blew out a breath. "Hard to remember that sometimes," he admitted.

Stiles offered Derek a soft smile. "I know," he said. "But it's true."

Derek felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. "Thank you," he said suddenly. "For everything. I don't think I ever told you that."

Stiles lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "That's what friends are for."

Derek glanced at Stiles. "Are we?"

Stiles blinked. "Duh," he said. "Look around you. Of course we're friends."

Derek couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad we are. I've missed you."

Stiles' heart absolutely did not skip a beat. "Yeah, well," he said flippantly. "Good luck getting rid of me now."

* * *

Boyd took the bite a few days later, and Derek's wolf finally settled down. He had three betas in his pack now-- but something wasn't quite right with Stiles. Eventually, Derek cornered him in the kitchen.

"Something's bothering you," he announced. "Spill."

"What?" Stiles asked, but he knew better than to play dumb with Derek. He sighed. "It's nothing."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I can hear your heartbeat, remember?"

Stiles gave him a half-hearted glare before capitulating. "It's Lydia," he said. "I overheard Allison and Scott talking about her at school. She's awake."

"Peter bit her, didn't he?" Derek asked, frowning slightly. "Did she turn?"

Stiles shook his head. "At least, I don't think so. Scott and me broke into her room not long after it happened, and the bite hadn't healed. But that was the last I saw of her." A few days later, he'd gone out to find Derek at the old Hale house, and he hadn't been allowed near the hospital since.

"Well, let's go talk to her; if she hasn't turned, she at least needs to know what's going on," Derek decided.

Stiles shook his head. "It's not that simple," he said. "Allison's got her dad's people at the hospital near enough around the clock. She doesn't want you or me going anywhere near Lydia."

Derek hummed thoughtfully. "Do they know about the pack?"

"Definitely," Stiles said. "Scott knows, and even if he hasn't told Allison then Mr Argent will have made it his business to know."

"Well, they can't keep any of you from talking to her at school," Derek said thoughtfully. "All we need is to get her curious enough to seek us out."

"How?" Stiles asked.

"What classes do you share?"

"Chemistry," Stiles said slowly. "English. Math."

Derek snapped his fingers. "Erica and Isaac have chemistry with you two. Between the three of you, you can get her attention somehow."

Stiles nodded. "You're right," he said, smiling.

Derek grinned. "Just get her curious enough to start asking questions-- try not to be completely obvious, but if she's immune to the bite... Well, either way she's already involved in our world."

"You think she's not human?" Stiles asked, his eyebrows raised.

"It's rare, but... The only time a human is immune to the bite is when they have latent power," Derek explained. "The bite sometimes activates that power."

"So then she really does need us," Stiles said. "Should I warn Scott?"

"Yeah. Tell him that she might be immune to the bite, but that doesn't mean she's safe."

Stiles nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll call him later."

Stiles waited until he knew Scott would be home from work before calling him. He was both surprised and relieved when Scott picked up after only two rings. "Hey, man," he said. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Scott said. "What's up?"

Stiles blew out a breath. "We need to talk," he said. "I heard you talking to Allison today; I know that Lydia's awake."

"What about that?" Scott asked sharply. "So she survived the bite; why is Derek interested in her?"

"Did I say that he was?" Stiles snapped.

"Well why are you?"

"Because I care about her," Stiles said. "And because you might not be willing to admit it, but you know as well as I do that Lydia surviving the bite means something."

"So why not let Chris Argent handle it? We've got everything under control."

"You really want to let an Argent handle Lydia?" Stiles asked. "We don't even know what she is. What if he decides she's dangerous?"

"Chris follows the code," Scott insisted. "Besides, he knows a lot about the supernatural. Just-- stay away from Lydia, and make sure Derek does the same. He's got his pack now, he doesn't need anymore people involved in the supernatural."

Stiles sighed. "We just want to help, Scott."

"Yeah well Lydia doesn't need any of Derek's _help_ ," Scott spat.

"Whatever," Stiles snarled, anger flaring. "Forgive me for breathing." He hung up without waiting for a response from Scott and launched his phone across the room. Luckily for the phone, it sailed into a pile of clean laundry, but soft _thump_ it made as it landed was not very satisfying. Stiles kicked his desk viciously instead. "Fuck!"

Derek poked his head in the door, passing by on his way to the guest bedroom. "No luck with Scott?" he guessed.

"He fucking hates me, you know that?" Stiles asked, more than a little bitter. "He told me that I'd better stay away from Lydia if I know what's good for me, and that I should keep you away, too."

Derek came to sit on the bed, patting the spot beside him in invitation. "I hate to say it, but Scott has been through a lot. But you two were inseparable. You said it yourself-- that doesn't mean nothing. Scott's confused now, and it's not going to be easy to change his mind. But all we can do is try to show him he's wrong about what he thinks now."

Stiles sighed and looked down. "I hope you're right," he said quietly. "He's my brother. I can't lose him."

Derek hesitated, then wrapped his arm around Stiles's shoulders, pulling the teen closer to him. "I know," he said, voice just as quiet. "We'll do everything we can."

Stiles nodded, and tried to let that comfort him. 

* * *

The next day, while Stiles and the betas were at school, Derek drove to Chris Argent's place. He knocked on the door, and when the hunter opened it, he didn't give the older man a chance to speak before he was saying, "We know Lydia's immune to the bite; my pack is going to speak with her today, start letting her know what's been going on and why. It's only fair, considering she was attacked by my crazy uncle."

Argent blinked. "They'll have a job to get close enough to speak to her," he said. "Allison is very protective."

"And you'll protect her by keeping her in the dark?" Derek challenged. "Do you know what it means when someone is immune to the bite?"

"I can't say that I do," Argent admitted, "but whatever it does mean, why should I trust you to handle it?"

"Because I know what it means," Derek said simply. "If she's immune to the bite, she has latent supernatural power. The bite has most likely activated it-- meaning that she is now a part of my world-- _our_ world. I'm done with people dying for no reason. I am not Peter, and I won't be an alpha like he was. I'm trying to be like Talia Hale-- are you going to be like who killed her?"

Argent took a moment to mull that over, and then sighed. "I'll talk to Allison," he said. "But if she won't stand down, I'm not going to make her."

"We just want to talk to Lydia," Derek repeated. "She's not in any danger from us."

"I'll talk to her," Argent repeated. "I don't want there to be any more bad blood between us, and I'll try to make her understand that."

* * *

It took just under a week for Lydia to return to school, but when she did she returned with a flourish. She seemed both physically and mentally unaffected by what had happened, and she was as confident as ever. Allison made a point of monopolising her time and keeping her well away from the pack, but she couldn't protect her forever.

The morning of Lydia's first day back saw her in chemistry with Stiles, Erica and Isaac. It wasn't difficult to attract Lydia's attention; her gaze had been glued to Erica the moment she walked through the door, and even now that class was well underway Lydia was still twisting around in her seat to stare at her every few minutes. Erica was beyond smug, and while she preened under Lydia's incredulity Isaac and Stiles were taking advantage of Lydia's attention. They stared at her, smiled at her, did some complicated eyebrow wiggling. They also made it very clear that they were talking about her, something that was obviously pissing her off.

It worked like a charm. At lunch, Stiles and the rest of the pack hadn't been sat down for more than five minutes before Lydia was breaking away from a desperate-looking Allison and storming over to their table. "Lydia," Stiles said smoothly, gracing her with a warm smile. "You're looking fabulous today."

"Can it," Lydia said shortly. "I know something's going on-- why is Allison so desperate to keep me away from you? And what was with the constipated eyebrows?"

"We were trying to get your attention," Stiles said. "Obviously it worked. Sit down; we need to talk."

Lydia sat down, still suspicious. "Why would you need my attention?"

"Because we know who attacked you, and we think we know why," Isaac said.

"How much do you remember from that night?" Stiles asked.

Lydia shrugged. "It was the winter formal, and you'd left me somewhere. Most of it is a blur."

"Well," Stiles said slowly. "The person who was behind all the attacks that had been happening before, the ones that were blamed on a mountain lion, he's the one who attacked you."

"He was a werewolf," Erica added. "And he bit you."

Lydia raised one eyebrow. "You honestly expect me to believe that?"

Isaac let his eyes flash gold. "Yes we do."

"It's a lot to take in, I know," Stiles said quickly. "But there's more, if you can stand to hear it."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at the group one by one ending with Stiles. "I'm coming to your house this evening," she announced, standing up. "I expect answers then." With that, she turned and made her way to a dismayed Allison and Scott.

Isaac watched her go, and sighed. "Damn, I almost forgot why I had a crush on her."

* * *

Derek made a mental note to thank Stiles yet again for warning him that Lydia was coming; the young woman was _scary._ Derek wasn't afraid to admit that he was actually a bit intimidated. "So I'm guessing they told you?"

"They got out the word 'werewolves' and I decided this should be a more... private conversation. Why are you part of it?" Lydia was looking at him assessingly, and Derek had to fight the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

"Because I'm the alpha," he said calmly. "Erica, Isaac, Boyd, Stiles, and Stiles's father are my pack."

"Mhm. And whatever attacked me?"

"Was my uncle, Peter-- the former alpha. When he bit you, you should have been turned," Derek explained. "But you obviously didn't."

"We think that, because you're immune, that means you have some sort of power of your own that's protecting you," Stiles said. "And that power could have been... woken up, I guess? By the bite."

"Does the bite usually turn people?" Lydia asked, looking to Derek once again.

"Or kill them."

Stiles nodded. "And obviously it didn't do either, so..."

"So you want me to join your little pack so you can keep an eye on me?" Lydia finished, her expression unreadable.

"Not exactly," Derek answered. "We want you to know you're not alone, and if you have questions, you have somewhere to get _reliable_ answers. If you decide you want to join the pack, that'd be great-- but that wasn't the goal behind getting your attention today."

"Our priority is making sure that you're okay," Stiles agreed.

Lydia hummed thoughtfully. "Both Allison and Scott tried to keep me from talking to you; why?"

Stiles sighed. "They don't trust us," he said. "Derek became the alpha by killing Peter. Scott and Allison think he only did it for the power, and that he's brainwashed me and the others into thinking he's a good person." He winced and looked at Derek. "Sorry."

Derek shook his head slightly. "Allison also comes from a family of hunters, so no matter how much she might try not to be because of Scott, she's still prejudiced."

Lydia tilted her head. "Fair enough. Well, personally I don't believe you're in this for your own power, and as such I will let you know if anything out of the ordinary starts happening to me."

Stiles smiled. "Thank you," he said. "Just don't shut Scott and Allison out, either. We don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things right now, but they're still the good guys."

Lydia had tilted her head. "If there are good guys, then who're the bad guys?" she'd asked, rhetorically, and then stood up. "I need to be getting home-- I'll be in touch."

Derek shook his head after the door closed behind her. "I can see why you had that crush on her," he said to Stiles, who just flushed and shrugged.

* * *

Boyd had to admit, he liked being part of the pack. It felt almost like being part of a family again-- especially on the twice-, sometimes thrice-weekly pack nights. That was time they just spent at the Stilinski house, chowing down on a ludicrous amount of pizza, candy, and chips while watching whatever movies were on Netflix. A few nights after the meeting with Lydia, Derek had announced that he was going to be rebuilding his old house-- and, he'd added, that he would be looking into possibly becoming Boyd's legal guardian, if that was agreeable with the teenager.

Boyd hadn't been able to help the smile that had stolen across his face. "I'd like that," he'd admitted, and had been rewarded with pleased smiles from the rest of the pack. After that, they'd all settled into their usual spots-- Isaac, Stiles, and Derek on the couch, Erica and Boyd on the loveseat. Boyd liked this arrangement; he'd always noticed Erica, even though he'd never spoken to her beyond the occasional 'hello' in the hallway while they were at their lockers. But now, with the way Erica had come into herself... She was a knockout; Boyd had to admit he liked watching her toy with the boys at school, the ones who'd never paid her any attention until she got the confidence to start wearing more revealing clothing and make up.

What he wasn't so fond of was watching the way she watched Stiles-- it wasn't hard to figure out that she liked the human of their little pack. Tonight, however... There was something a little guarded in her expression. Boyd reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly-- just the once-- before he withdrew a bit and went back to pretending to watch the movie.

Erica turned briefly toward Boyd, but when she saw that he wasn't looking at her she returned her attention to Stiles. He was sitting in the middle of Isaac and Derek on the sofa, Isaac sprawled all over him like the over-affectionate puppy that he was. But aside from the fingers he had scritching against Isaac's scalp, Stiles wasn't paying him any attention. Sure, he was watching the movie like all of them, but whenever something funny happened, it was Derek that Stiles looked to, his eyes lit up with amusement and something else, something that Erica could probably define if she dared to try.

Derek wasn't even looking back most of the time, and Erica was buzzing with frustration, because seriously? She was _right there_! Why couldn't Stiles look at her like that?

"Hey," Stiles muttered suddenly, poking Derek in the side with his free hand. "Go get me a soda."

Derek rolled his eyes, but got to his feet. "Yes, your highness," he said sarcastically, sketching a mock bow. "You know, I'm going to make you fetch all sorts of things on pack night once the house is finished."

"I'll be a guest then!" Stiles protested, yelling after Derek as he left the room. "You live here!"

"That never stopped you from trying to order me around before," Derek called back from the kitchen. "You were just as bossy as Laura."

Stiles flipped Derek off through the wall, and grinned at the others, who were watching him curiously. "What an asshole," he said.

Just for that, Derek chucked the soda can at Stiles, narrowly missing the teenager's shoulder. "Careful, it might be a little shaken up," he said sweetly, cracking open his own soda from the safety of the entry to the kitchen.

Stiles made a sound of dismay. "I hate you," he said darkly, glowering at Derek. He didn't try to open the soda.

The thing was, they could all hear the lie - they didn't even need super werewolf hearing to catch it, either. Stiles didn't hate Derek at all, Erica realised with a start. He loved him.

* * *

It took another week for Derek to realize his own feelings.

The pack had all been stressed, worried about upcoming midterms-- and Stiles was even more stressed for some reason. Whatever the reason, the human had pulled an all-nighter in order to study, and after the day of the exam, the pack had all gathered at the Stilinski house to watch movies and veg out a bit. After the rest of the pack had left and Isaac had retreated to his bed, Derek and Stiles had stayed on the couch, not-watching another movie. Derek liked these times the best-- when it was just him and Stiles, hanging out like they used to before everything happened. He'd missed those days more than he'd ever let himself realize.

Stiles was enjoying himself just as much, but with the exam over and the largest source of stress removed, the late nights were starting to catch up with him. Not even an hour into the movie, he began to nod, and before he knew it he was sound asleep, his head resting on Derek's shoulder.

Derek smiled softly to himself, letting one hand move to card through Stiles's hair. He didn't make any move to wake Stiles up; the teenager deserved his sleep, and Derek didn't mind being his pillow. He didn't mind being Stiles's anything, to be honest. He'd do anything for the human; he loved him--

He loved him. Holy shit, Derek _loved_ him.

Derek felt everything in him go still with the revelation. He loved Stiles. He didn't just think of him as a packmate, or a family member-- he thought of him as a possible _mate._

Abruptly, Derek realized that he needed to get out of there.

* * *

Stiles remained blissfully oblivious to Derek's inner turmoil for all of twelve hours. The very next day, Derek started acting weird; he was out for most of the day, and barely spoke to Stiles when he came home for dinner before disappearing into his room for the rest of the night. Isaac, when Stiles asked him, had no idea what Derek's problem was, but he did say that Derek's heartbeat had been going crazy from the moment he returned to the house. That didn't offer much by the way of answers, but they both agreed that something strange must be happening.

When Derek didn't return to normal the next day, once again leaving the house before dawn and this time not even getting home in time for dinner, Stiles decided to confront him. He stayed up until Derek got back, just past midnight, and came downstairs to find Derek rummaging in the fridge. Stiles had invited Scott and Melissa over for dinner, and when Derek didn't show up had very purposefully made sure there were no leftovers. "Are you in some sort of trouble?" Stiles asked abruptly when Derek didn't turn to look at him.

Derek had been expecting this, but that didn't make it any easier. Picking out an orange, Derek closed the fridge and turned. "No, I'm not," he said, grabbing a paper towel to drop the peel on. 

"I'm kind of surprised you came home," Stiles said honestly, pushing away from the door jam to move further into the kitchen. "You wanna tell me why you're so sketchy all of a sudden?"

Derek let his voice get a bit annoyed. "I've just been out doing things, Stiles; there's nothing _sketchy_ going on."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Well that sounds super convincing.”

Derek sighed. "I've been looking for an apartment."

The bottom dropped out of Stiles' stomach. "What?"

"It's going to be a couple of months before the house is finished, and I can't keep staying with you and your dad," Derek pointed out. "And if I'm going to become Boyd's legal guardian, I'll need my own place. Besides, this'll let Isaac have his own room here."

"It was your room first," Stiles pointed out. "Isaac doesn't mind. And Boyd isn't in any rush; his foster family are nice enough, this time. We-- I like having you here."

"I know," Derek said, turning back to his orange. "But I can't stay; I wouldn't feel right imposing on you for so long."

Stiles' mouth worked silently for a moment. "You're not going to let me talk you out of this, are you?" he asked quietly.

Derek shook his head. "I found a nice place downtown," he said. "It opens up this weekend; I've already arranged to rent it until the house is finished."

Stiles was abruptly reminded of the last time Derek pulled away from him like this. "Is there something else going on?" he asked.

Derek felt guilty for lying to Stiles, but-- "No, nothing. I just think it'd be best if I moved out while the house is being rebuilt."

Stiles' searched Derek's gaze, but he wasn't sure what he could see there. "You need to be honest with us," he said. "That's what a pack is all about, you've said that yourself. If there's anything you're holding back..."

"I'm not holding back anything that will hurt the pack," Derek said honestly. "I just... I think it'd be best if I got my own place."

Stiles sighed. "Fine," he said. "If you want to talk about anything, you know where I am." And where he would be was in his bedroom.

* * *

Derek and Stiles avoid each other for the rest of the week-- and the strain is starting to show on the rest of the pack. Derek felt guilty about that, but he _needed_ to get out of this house, mostly for his own peace of mind. For one thing, Stiles was still only in his junior year of high school.

The more important thing was that he was certain Stiles didn't love him back.

Derek told Isaac and the sheriff of his plans to leave the day after he told Stiles, and while Isaac expressed his dismay, the sheriff could only offer his respect and support for Derek's decision. However, as the week progressed and the atmosphere in the house got steadily more unbearable, he decided that he had to act. In avoiding Stiles, Derek was pretty much avoiding everyone else, so a little creativity would be necessary. Which was why Sheriff Stilinski came home unexpectedly for lunch while Stiles and Isaac were at school, and caught Derek unawares.

"I think you and I need to have a talk, son," he said in lieu of a greeting when he found Derek reading in the sitting room. "You mind if I join you?"

Derek startled when the sheriff first spoke, but made himself relax and nod. "I don't mind."

The sheriff sat down with a sigh. "Are you going to tell me the real reason you're leaving?" he asked.

Derek blinked. "There's no other reason; I just think it'd be best if i moved out a little early."

"And why is that?"

"Because I feel like I need some more space," Derek answers honestly. 

"And that's the only reason?" the sheriff asked, unimpressed. "Son, the only person you're fooling is yourself. I know how important mates are to werewolves."

 _That_ just about makes Derek fall out of his chair. "You-- What?"

"You heard me," the sheriff said calmly. "I'd have to be blind to miss the way you look at him."

"I, er-- How long have you known?"

"About you and Stiles? A lot longer than you, I can promise you that." After a moment the sheriff added, "And a lot longer than Stiles."

"I meant the werewolves," Derek clarified, flushing.

"I know," the sheriff said, smirking. "I've known since you were young. You don't think your mother would have let you come over here and play with my very human kid all the time without telling me, do you?"

"Good point," Derek said after a moment. "But that doesn't change the fact that Stiles doesn't feel the same, and he's still in high school."

"He is still in school," the sheriff allowed, "and very much underage for a few more months - but what makes you so sure that he doesn't feel the same way?"

"He doesn't act like it," Derek said simply. "He doesn't smell like it either."

"Derek, I know my son," the sheriff said. "Maybe he doesn't smell like it. But maybe he just doesn't smell any different."

That made Derek hesitate; he hadn't thought of that. "You think--"

The sheriff didn't dignify that with an answer. "You've already broken his heart once before," he said instead. " _Don't_ do it again."

Derek swallowed. "I won't."

"Good." The sheriff got to his feet with a sigh. "Tell Stiles that Isaac and I won't be home for dinner."

* * *

Derek used the empty house to confront Stiles that night. "Can I talk with you?"

Stiles looked surprised, but put his homework to one side with a bemused sort of smile. "Sure. What's up?"

"Your dad came to talk to me earlier today."

Stiles blinked. "About what?"

"Us," Derek confessed. He took a deep breath, then said, "He warned me not to break your heart again."

Stiles looked away. "He shouldn't have said that," he said quietly. "He had no right."

"He's your dad; he had every right," Derek said, then gathered up all of his courage to confess, "and it would have broken my heart too."

Stiles didn't dare to look at Derek, for fear of what his face would give away. "What?"

"That's part of why I was moving out," Derek explained quietly. "I realized I... care for you. Much, much more than I should."

At that, Stiles' gaze snapped up to meet Derek's. "You can't be serious," he said, a little too sharply.

"I am," Derek insisted. "I didn't realize until that night you fell asleep on me."

Stiles spent a long moment searching Derek's face, and found the truth of his words there. "I-- I can't believe it," he said softly. "You..."

"Me," Derek agreed, smiling softly. "I just thought maybe some space would help keep things... normal between us. At least until you were legal."

"So you tell me that you... have _feelings_ for me, and then you leave anyway?"

"If your dad was wrong, then yeah."

Stiles' heart started to pound in his chest. "He wasn't," he said quickly. "I-- He's known longer than me, I think."

Derek knows he has to look pathetically hopeful. "Really?"

"You've always meant more to me than you should," Stiles said with a wry little smile. "Scott was always jealous of you when we were kids. I think he's still jealous of you now; he knew as soon as you got back that nothing had changed. Except, I guess, a lot has changed?"

Derek shrugged. "It might have," he allowed. "A lot happened."

Stiles smiled. "I'm fairly confident a ten-year-old can't _actually_ be in love."

Derek groaned, stepping into the room so he could sit on the end of the bed. "Oh God, you were only what, eleven or twelve when everything went down with Kate, weren't you?"

"Something like that," Stiles agreed. "But I hero-worshipped the shit out of you. I was crushed when you started backing off but, I guess it made sense? I mean, you were dealing with so much and you were also so much older than me. You didn't need a little kid running after you." 

Derek sighed. "You know, you were one if the only things I missed about Beacon Hills in New York."

Stiles laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure you were real homesick for the spastic little brat who never learned to keep his mouth shut."

"I was," Derek insisted. "You were my first friend that I wasn't also related to. Of course I missed you."

"Yeah, well I missed you, too," Stiles said. "Especially after you came back."

Derek's expression softened. "I am sorry about that."

Stiles smiled. "It's okay," he said. "We're on the same page now. Right?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

Stiles let out a breath. "So, what now?"

"So..." Derek's expression turned sheepish. "Would you mind me staying here until the house is built?"

Stiles leaned over and shoved Derek's shoulder, hard. "Like that's even a question, asshole. _I_ was the one who wanted you here in the first place."

Derek dodged, laughing. "I was just checking!" he protested. 

"Well you're going to have to do better than that, 'cause that was dumb," Stiles insisted. "I meant what now for _us_."

Derek sobered. "I'm not sure," he admitted. 

"Well my dad clearly approves," Stiles said, glancing at his lap. "But, I get it if I'm too young for you."

Derek shook his head. "That's not it-- not exactly. Part of it is that you're so young; I feel almost like... like if you commit to me, you'll miss out on so many things you should get to experience. I didn't get to do that because of my own stupidity; I want you to have that chance."

Stiles' expression softened and he reached out to touch Derek's hand. "It's not like I'd be in prison," he said. "It's not like you'd lock me in my room and refuse to let me out. The only thing I'd be 'missing out on' is the meaningless, drunken hookups, which I'd be giving a pass anyway." He looked up at Derek through his lashes, daring to hope. "As for the rest... maybe you could experience it with me." 

Derek turned his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Stiles's. "If you're sure--"

"Derek, I'm crazy in love with you," Stiles said bluntly. "I'm sure."

Derek couldn't help but smile. "I'm kinda crazy in love with you, too," he confessed. 

Stiles smiled back. "There's no pressure, y'know," he said. "Crazy in love or not, after what you've been through... I'd get it, if you're not ready or something."

Derek took his time formulating his answer. "I don't mind most things," he said finally. "Like holding hands or kissing. But I don't-- I don't want to do anymore than that. For several reasons."

Stiles nodded, thinking. "That's okay," he said. "I don't think I want to, either. But... could we cuddle?"

Derek grinned. "I am fully in support of cuddling."

Stiles positively beamed. "Then if you help me finish my homework, I'll let you be the big spoon."

* * *

Stiles passed the next few weeks in something of a daze. No one knew about his relationship with Derek aside from his father and the rest of the pack, largely because they didn't want to draw hostile attention from Scott, but also because Derek was still kind of twitchy about the age difference. He was insisting that they wait until Stiles turned eighteen to do anything more than kissing, and although Stiles was putting up the token protests that were expected of him as a horny and loved-up teenage boy, he was careful not to actually try to sway Derek to the other side of his argument. Stiles was more than happy to wait a few months - indefinitely, even.

But Derek didn't want that. He'd made it clear that sex was off the table only until Stiles reached the age of consent, after which time it would be very much on the table. Derek would want Stiles very much in a bed, naked, and Derek would want to be there with him, also naked. The thought alone was enough to make Stiles' heart race, and not in a good way. Several nights spent up until the small hours of the morning on the internet left him with a few answers as to why that was, but it didn't make his impending birthday any easier to think about, nor his impending break-up. They'd come so far, from crazy childhood hero-worship to full-blown butterflies-in-stomach, _Holy shit he's so beautiful I want to die_ \- Stiles couldn't lose Derek now. There were two months left until his birthday, and time was running out.

So, rather than lose his shit completely, he did the only sensible thing left to him. He called Scott.

Scott had a feeling that when Stiles called him at 2:30 in the morning on a school night, it wouldn't be good. "What's going on?" he asked, fumbling for the light switch on his lamp. "Is someone dying?"

"No," Stiles said. "I'm sorry for waking you; I didn't see the time. I can call back tomorrow?"

"No, dude, I'm up-- what's wrong? You only ever call this early if something's really freaking you out."

Stiles blew out a breath. "Okay," he said. "Okay, scenario. What would you do if Allison told you she didn't want to have sex?"

Scott frowned in confusion. "I'd say okay?"

"I don't mean just, 'Not right now'," Stiles was quick to qualify. "I mean, like, _ever_."

Scott thought about that for a moment. "Well, uh-- I guess I'd respect that? I mean, I liked her before we had sex, so I guess I'd be okay with no sex? I mean I do still have my right hand in this scenario, right?"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "Yeah, of course. So you wouldn't feel like you were, I don't know, being robbed of something? Like you were missing out?"

"Maybe a bit? I mean, I love sex with Allison, but I love her more, and whatever she wants, I'd respect that. Why are you so concerned about this, Stiles?"

"No reason," Stiles said quickly. "I just couldn't sleep, and the mind wanders, y'know?"

"Uh huh," Scott answered, feeling a little doubtful-- Stiles has done this before, called him in the middle of the night asking about random scenarios, but he's never sounded like it's so _personal_ before. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here for you, bro."

The words made Stiles ache. "That's good to know," he said sincerely. "Same goes, okay?"

"Okay." Scott couldn't help the fond smile as he added, "Now go the fuck to sleep, okay? You have school too, you know."

Stiles actually laughed. "Yeah, sorry man. G'night." He was still smiling when he hung up.

* * *

Derek was almost on Cloud Nine. Cloud Eight, maybe. He had Stiles, he had a pack, and things were finally looking up. 

Except for the fact that something was clearly bothering Stiles. He wasn't saying anything, but Derek could still tell. Still, he decided to wait until Stiles was ready to talk-- and eventually, the teenager was. He found Derek in the latter's bedroom while Derek was reading over some rather interesting articles concerning a few supernatural creatures that Derek wasn't familiar with. Derek looked up when Stiles's footsteps hesitated outside his door, and offered his boyfriend a smile. "What's up?"

Even now, after spending days working himself up to this, Stiles hesitated. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Derek put down his phone. "Of course," he said, patting the bed next to him. 

Stiles went to him, but made sure there were a good couple of inches between them when he sat down. "I've been thinking," he said. "About after I turn eighteen."

Derek didn't like the distance between them, but he didn't comment on it. "Okay," he said, a little confused. "What about, specifically?"

"Sex," Stiles said. "Umm. This is really awkward, I'm sorry."

"What about sex?" Derek asked. "And I'd rather we have an awkward talk then not talk about it at all."

Stiles sighed. "I don't think I want to... y'know."

"Have sex?" Derek asked, just for clarification. 

"Yeah." The word was more exhale than anything, and Stiles bowed his head. "I mean, I might? I might get into it once we're, y'know, _into it_ , but... I don't think so."

Derek hesitated, but then laid a hand on Stiles's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I'd want sex as soon as you turned eighteen," he said sincerely. "But if you're uncomfortable with that-- for whatever reason-- then that's okay; I won't care if we don't have sex for months, years, or ever."

Stiles looked up. "Seriously?" he asked.

Derek nodded. "Honestly, I uh-- Sex isn't that important to me," he confessed. "It's certainly not why I'm dating you."

The corner of Stiles' mouth quirked up a bit. "Oh."

Derek offered Stiles a tentative smile. "I mean it; I'm not going to deny you're incredibly attractive, but if you don't want to have sex, that's fine with me."

"Maybe one day," Stiles said. "If-- if you want to. I just don't think I'll be very into it? Like, some asexual people are completely disgusted by sex, but I don't think that's me? I'm just... not into it."

"I know what you mean," Derek reassured Stiles. "Honestly, I was never interested in sex. Sleeping with Kate was... very unhealthy, for a lot of reasons. When I was in New York, I had sex with a couple of people, but it was just me getting them off; I didn't want then to touch me. That wasn't just the wolf speaking, either-- that was all me. I discovered that i like giving my partner an orgasm, but I don't much care for my own. But above all else, I want the intimacy. I always have."

Stiles' mouth worked for a moment. "I can work with that," he said. "The intimacy. I-- I want that. I want to be close to you."

"Okay," Derek said, smiling. "We'll take it one day at a time?"

"Deal," Stiles said, smiling back. "One day at a time."

* * *

The next night was the full moon, and that was when things went to shit. Allison called Stiles in a panic, babbling about Scott losing control and getting loose-- and Victoria Argent, matriarch of the family, was on his trail. 

Luckily for Derek, his own anchor was his pack, and his pack was doing well enough on their control that he felt confident asking Stiles to seal them in a mountain ash circle and leave them-- he didn't want to risk them possibly getting hurt if things took a turn for the worse. "We'll find him before she does," Derek promised as they finished closing the wards Deaton had helped them set up to protect the pack on the full moon. 

"I'm coming with you," Stiles said instantly. "If you think for a second I'm sitting this one out--"

Derek laid a hand on the back of Stiles's neck, squeezing gently. "I wasn't going to ask you to. Grab some more mountain ash, and let's go."

Allison had been able to give them a good idea of where Victoria was headed, so it took them no time at all and also entirely too long to find them. Her car was parked outside of an old warehouse, and by the time Derek pulled up behind it Stiles was frantic. "Can you hear her?" Stiles demanded. "Does she have Scott? Are we too late?"

"Yes, no, and no," Derek said as they got out of the car. "Come on; if we hurry we can beat her to him. Sounds like he's in a room somewhere-- if you can seal the doorway with mountain ash, I can talk to Victoria."

"You're going to talk to her?" Stiles asks incredulously as they start to hurry toward an entrance. "That's your big plan?"

"Look, Scott's only lost control because he's an omega-- and I couldn't very well chase him off our territory. If i can convince her to back off and let me handle Scott, that'll buy us time-- hopefully enough for you and me to convince him to join the pack."

Stiles nodded. "Okay," he said. "Good luck."

* * *

It's only through sheer luck that they find Scott before Victoria does. Stiles seals the other wolf in the room he'd taken refuge in, and then both of them settle in to wait. 

They don't have long to wait; Victoria comes around the corner-- and is clearly startled to see them. Still, she regains her composure quickly enough. "Hale-- Stilinski. What are you doing here?"

"Picking up an errant wolf," Derek answers, voice as cordial as he can make it. 

"You mean an omega," Victoria said sharply. "This has gone on long enough, Hale-- let me have the boy."

"Like hell!" Stiles cried. "He hasn't violated your code; you have no right to take him."

"He is a 'wolf who's clearly lost control," Victoria argued. 

"And what about your code?" Derek snapped. "'We hunt those who hunt us'. Scott has hurt no one-- in fact, as soon as he realized he was losing control, he ran. To an _abandoned building._ You take him, and you'll be violating your own code. As local alpha, it is _my_ responsibility to deal with omegas-- a responsibility I am taking care of. If-- and _only_ if-- Scott were to kill someone, then he'd be your problem. He hasn't, therefore he is still my responsibility. You are interfering in the local pack business without justification. I have connections--" old allies he'd been considering reaching out to again, but Victoria didn't need to know that he hadn't actually contacted them yet "-- and i will not hesitate to use them to spread the word that the matriarch of the Argent family is following in her grandfather and sister-in-law's footsteps. Is that a blow to your family's reputation you're willing to take?"

Stiles had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out at Victoria, and when she failed to find an answer he spoke instead. "If it's all the same to you, we're going to get my friend now and help him. You can leave."

Victoria clearly wants to argue-- but Derek is right. Scott hasn't injured or killed anyone, and thus isn't her problem. So even though it galls her, she leaves. As soon as the coast was clear, Derek turned to Stiles. "Let me into the room; I want you to stay outside the mountain ash for right now, okay? Just until we figure out how out of it Scott is."

Stiles didn't like it, but he nodded. "If he loses it, just shout and I'll break the ash," he promised. "Do not stay in there with him if he's dangerous.

Derek nodded, waiting until Stiles had broken the ash line to dart through the doorway; behind him, he could hear Stiles reforming it, but he focused his attention on Scott. "Hey, Scott," Derek said, careful to keep his voice calm and non-threatening. 

Scott snarled. "What do you want?"

"I just want to help," Derek said calmly. "So does Stiles-- but he can't cross the mountain ash until you calm down. Do you think you can do that?"

Scott hesitated. "I don't know," he snapped."

"That's okay," Derek soothed. "Let's take this one step at a time, okay? Can you pull back the claws?"

It took a long moment, Scott's mounting frustration only making the situation worse, before he gave up with a sigh and his claws retracted. "Now what?"

"The fangs?" Derek suggested, watching Scott carefully. 

Scott tried, but the pull of the moon was too strong and he roared with frustration.

" _Derek_!" Stiles called from outside. "What's going on in there?"

"He's just frustrated," Derek called back before turning to Scott. "Scott, I need you to try to think, okay-- I need you to pull back the fangs before I can let Stiles in here. Can you use him as an anchor?"

Scott growled. "He _hates_ me," he said, voice low.

"No, he doesn't," Derek said calmly, if a little confused. "Why would he hate you?"

"Because I don't trust _you_."

Derek bit back a sigh, instead taking a deep breath. "Scott. Stiles does _not_ hate you-- you're his brother. Whether or not you trust me isn't going to change that. But right now, Stiles needs you to try to get yourself under control, okay?"

Scott took his time thinking about that, but at last he nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

"Okay," Derek said, relieved. "If you can pull the fangs back, I'll tell Stiles to step over the mountain ash, okay?"

Scott blew out a breath, closed his eyes, and went very still. A few agonising seconds later, and his fangs retreated back into his mouth. When he met Derek's gaze again, his eyes were mostly brown.

"Good," Derek said encouragingly. "Stiles? You can come in-- but don't break the mountain ash just yet."

A moment later Stiles stepped over the threshold of the room. "Hey guys," he said, the shake in his voice belying his light tone. "How's it going?"

Derek moved out of the way, but was ready to intervene if necessary. "I think we're doing okay."

Scott, on the other hand, didn't seem so sure. The yellow suddenly bled back into his eyes and he growled at Stiles. "You smell like _him_!"

Derek jumped back in front of Scott. "Scott, I know it's the full moon but you need to try your best to control yourself."

Scott ignored Derek in favour of snarling at Stiles. " _Why_ do you smell like him?"

Stiles' eyes were wide, his hands raised. "Scott, I--"

"Have you been _sleeping_ with him?!"

"No!" Stiles cried. "Listen to my heartbeat: I haven't been sleeping with him. Scott, you need to calm down."

"Stiles, get back to the line," Derek said without taking his eyes off of Scott. "You don't have to cross it but I'd feel a lot better if you were closer to it."

Stiles backed up a few hasty paces, and Scott actually _whined_. "Don't go," he begged.

"Then get your shit together, man," Stiles said. "Stop growling at me and I won't have to go anywhere."

"Scott, we can't talk about this if you don't try to stay calm," Derek tried. 

"But there's something to talk about?" Scott pressed through gritted teeth.

"Scott, focus!" Stiles snapped. "You need to calm the fuck down."

There was a very tense moment, and then Scott started visibly pulling himself back under control. "Okay," he said. "Okay."

Derek stayed between the two younger men, studying Scott anxiously. "How do you feel?"

Scott swallowed hard. "Better."

"Good." Derek glanced back at Stiles, silently asking him the same question. 

Stiles nodded. "I'm good," he said.

Derek turned back to Scott. "Stiles and I are dating," he said simply. 

Scott's claws lengthened, but he was quick to ball his hands into fists. "Dating," he repeated flatly.

"You know how I feel about him, Scott," Stiles said. "Is it so awful if he feels the same way?"

"It is if he's taking advantage," Scott snapped back. "He's older than us."

"I wouldn't have said anything if the sheriff hadn't told me Stiles feels the same-- and that was only after i was getting ready to move out," Derek said. 

"You were going to leave him?" Scott asked sharply. "Again?"

"It was a stupid move," Derek admitted. "But I honestly thought it'd be better for everyone if i wasn't around twenty-four/seven."

"But that was before," Stiles said. "Before we knew how the other felt."

"And now?"

"Now," Stiles said, "he's sticking around. He'll stay with us until the house is ready, and then he'll move into it with Boyd."

"I'm not planning on leaving Stiles unless he asks me to," Derek agreed. 

"And I'm not going to do that," Stiles said, chancing a smile.

Scott's eyes were wide. "I can't even begin to process this."

"You don't have to process it," Stiles said. "Just stay calm and we can take you home." His gaze flickered to Derek. "Right?"

Derek hesitated, but nodded. "Yeah; it's only another couple of hours until morning."

Scott huffed. "I hate this."

Stiles' gaze softened. "I know, buddy."

"Let's just get through tonight," Derek suggested. "Tomorrow we can work on what to do."

* * *

They left Scott alone for the morning directly following the full moon, largely because they were too busy sleeping through it. Stiles was pretty shaken up by the previous evening's events, and since the sheriff was already at work when they got home he crawled into Derek's bed and straight into his arms as soon as he could. They both slept soundly, and Derek didn't let go the whole time.

When they woke up, Stiles sent Scott a text to find out when he could come over, and they endured an awkward breakfast/lunch with a very smug-looking Isaac. Derek wiped it off eventually by pointing out that Isaac would have been able to hear it if they'd had sex, but he promised not to tell the sheriff anyway. While Stiles' dad supported their relationship, they were absolutely under no circumstances allowed to share a bed until Stiles turned eighteen, asexuality or no.

Scott turned up about an hour before the sheriff was due home from work, and looked decidedly worse for wear. Derek had taken Isaac to a movie in the hopes of allowing them to have a civil conversation, so Stiles let him in with a weak smile and followed him through to the kitchen. "You want a drink or anything, or do you wanna just get straight to it?" he asked.

Scott took a deep breath. "Straight to it, I think," he said. "Last night was scary."

Stiles nodded. "It was," he said. "Do you know what happened, why you lost it like that?"

Scott sighed and admitted, "I've been losing touch with my anchor. Last night was just... the last straw, I guess. Allison and I are still going strong, but my anchor has just been really shaky lately, and was just getting worse."

"I thought Allison _was_ your anchor?" Stiles asked, frowning.

"She is," Scott said. "But like-- I can feel her there, I know she's still my anchor, but I have a hard time actually using it-- like it's not working the way it used to." He worried his lower lip, then said, "I think Derek was right, about me being an omega affecting my anchor."

Stiles nodded. "Maybe he was right about some other things, too," he offered.

Scott scrubbed a hand over his face. "Maybe," he allowed. "But I think... He was right, about me needing a pack. And since his is the only one available..."

"It isn't just a matter of convenience," Stiles said. "For him, at least. He might not act like it but I know he'd love to have you in the pack."

Scott still wasn't quite convinced, but... "What's he like? Yknow, as an alpha?"

Stiles smiled. "He's amazing," he said. "He's kind, generous. Fair. He cares about the betas so much. He loves them."

"And you think we'd get along?"

"You would," Stiles said confidently. "If you'd just let him in."

"I don't want to go through something like last night again," Scott confessed quietly. 

"You don't have to," Stiles promised softly. "We can help you."

Scott smiled. "Thanks, bro. I've missed you."

"Me too," Stiles said, with feeling. "I've hated the way things have been with us the past few months."

Scott followed his instincts, moving forward to pull Stiles into a hug. "Sorry for being such an ass," he muttered. 

"Me too," Stiles mumbled into Scott's shoulder. "Love you, man."

* * *

when Derek and Isaac got home that night, Scott was still there, apparently waiting for him. A glance at Stiles confirmed that at least it wasn't for a bad reason, so Derek offered the other teenager a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Scott said, nodding. "Last night was... rough."

"Yeah, it was-- for all of us," Derek agreed. 

"I've been talking to Stiles," Scott said. "He's making a lot of sense. I-- I think I want to join the pack."

Derek's expression softened. "You're sure about this?"

"I am," Scott said. "If you're willing to give me a chance."

Derek smiled. "Of course I am; welcome to the pack."

Scott smiled back. "Thank you," he said. "So, what now?"

Stiles took it upon himself to pipe up. "Now we eat pizza," he said. "Veggie, because my dad's home, but pizza nonetheless." He grinned. "I already called Erica and Boyd."

Derek laughed at that. "Pretty confident of my reaction, were you?" he teased, dropping a kiss to Stiles's temple as he passed his boyfriend on his way to the kitchen. 

"Well, duh," Stiles said. "You've only been yammering on about it for months." He grinned at Scott, who looked a little unsettled.

"You two are really dating, huh?"

Derek stilled, exchanging a glance with Stiles. "Yes, we are," he said carefully. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Scott shrugged. "No," he said. "It's just weird."

"Well, we usually don't do much in front of the pack, so you won't be subjected to more than you subjected Stiles to," Derek teased lightly. 

"Maybe even a little less," Stiles said, thinking of all the times Scott had waxed poetic about how wonderful Allison was in bed. He exchanged a look with Derek, but was saved from saying more by the doorbell. "Come on. That's either the pizza or it's Erica, and either way we do not want to keep them waiting."

* * *

It's not easy, not right away. But eventually the pack settles in with their new member, and things get easier. There's a few more emergencies through the last year of high school-- most notably a set of dryads getting pissed about one of their kin being chopped down. Half the town was abruptly overgrown with saplings and vines, and it took several weeks of negotiation before Derek and Stiles were able to calm down the dryads and reach a truce. 

Other than that and the occasional omega (and notably, once a clan of vampires passing through), things were quiet all the way up to graduation day. Derek was in the crowd of parents, watching with pride as his pack graduated. And at the end, he was on his feet clapping and cheering with the rest of the parents. 

Once it was all over, Stiles went straight to his dad, but he was still the first one to get to Derek. "I saw you!" he cried. "I saw you getting all excited with everyone else! I bet you even shed a tear, you big sappy alpha!"

"That isn't a secret," Derek protested, drawing Stiles in for another hug. "Everyone knows I'm a sap."

"Everyone in the pack knows that," Stiles answered as he melted willingly into Derek's arms. "Now the whole town knows, too."

"Hey guys!" Scott and the others appeared behind them, and Stiles pulled away to let the betas hug Derek, too. "We graduated! Can you believe it?"

"Not even," Stiles said, grinning.

Derek grinned, tugging everyone in. "Melissa, can you grab a picture? Maybe then Stiles will believe it."

Melissa already had her camera at the ready, and Stiles found himself squished up against Derek's side as the betas all crowded in around them. They shared a smile.

"Boyd, duck down next to Erica a little more, all I've got is your chin. Yeah, that's better. Look at me, Isaac, not the sky. Scott! Do not pull that face, I swear to God."

They were all laughing by the time the flash went off.

* * *

A little over four years later found the pack in the same situation-- luckily the colleges that they'd all chosen were close by, and all had different graduation dates, so everyone was able to go to every graduation. Things in those four years had been calm, with only one disaster around Christmastime halfway through the first year (abominable snowmen migrated en masse; who knew?), and honestly the whole pack was grateful for it. 

Stiles was the last to graduate, and after the huge graduation party that was held at the rebuilt Hale house, Derek and Stiles retreated to their bedroom. Derek barely gave Stiles a chance to get undressed before he was tugging the human into bed, wrapping his arms around Stiles in a warm embrace. "You're officially a college graduate," he murmured, smiling, as he buried his face in the crook of Stiles's neck. "Congrats."

Stiles hummed an affirmative, and pressed a soft kiss to Derek's temple. "Couldn't have done it without you," he said truthfully. "I love you."

Derek smiled. "I know," he teased before falling quiet for a moment. "You remember when we were little, and you asked me to marry you?"

Stiles groaned and ducked his head. "I was so smitten with you, even then. Talk about embarrassing."

Derek chuckled. "I never gave you a straight answer back then," he continued, reaching to dig around between the mattress and the wall, producing a small black velvet box. 

Stiles' breath caught in his throat. "I-- are you serious?" he asked.

"I am," Derek answered, smiling. "I love you, and have for years now, and I will for all the years to come. So, Stiles Stilinski, will you marry me?"

"Of course," Stiles said, soft and awed. "Of course I'll marry you."

Derek smiled, popping the box open and removing the ring to slip it over Stiles's finger. "I love you."

Stiles beamed. "I love you, too."


End file.
